A Beautiful Lifetime
by sierrab
Summary: Isabel Conklin thinks that her days as little Belly have long past. But after she sees Conrad at her college graduation, she'll realize that growing up doesn't always mean leaving your past behind, and that love might just be worth fighting for. Even if it's tough.
1. Memories

A Life for Myself

I was lost. Well, I mean, not like, for real, but that strange, misty, dreamy sort of lost. My dream was one of those confusing ones. You know, the kind where you know instictively that you're one place, but your surroundings say you're in another place. I knew I was in Cousins. I could feel it around me; the way the air smelled sweet, like summer, and the feeling of being away, away from everything that just didn't matter at Cousins beach. I could hear Susannah's soft laugh caressing my ears, the sound of the boys arguing over whose turn it was to play the video game, my mother's clear, sharp whistle carrying some rhythmic song to my ears. However, despite the feeling of the beach house all around me, all I could see were massive walls about me. Sturdy, concrete walls that twisted this way and that way usurped my path. I tried to reach the end of this tangled pathway, but everytime I thought I had discovered the exit, I found myself at the beginning once more. All of a sudden, the sounds in my head all went silent. I waited, desperately, for them to come flooding back once more; I didn't want to let go just yet. Then, another sound started, a voice that set my heart to beating wildly. The walls echoed Conrad Fisher's smooth voice all around me, as if daring me to try to find, in this twisted dreamland, the boy whom I had loved practically my whole life.

"Belly," the voice whispered in a hypnotic rhythm. "Come get me, Belly."

I began to run frantically, trying with all my might to find the way out of this cursed maze. The voice continued to harass my ears.

"Stop!" I yelled, pressing my hands forcefully to my ears. "Just, please, shut up!" I begged, urgent tears escaping down my cheeks. My whole body was filled to the brim with a hopeless despair.

The voice only got louder and louder, and I sprinted down the gnarled pathway faster and faster. I felt positive that I was going crazy. Suddenly, an ugly, screeching sound filled my ears. I was thankful, so thankful, for this terrible din that drowned out the haunted cries of the boy I loved. In my dream, I fell to my knees, gasping for breath. In an instant, though, the ground beneath me collapsed, leaving me falling into a dark, deep pit full of gloom and darkness where nobody could hear my screams...

I jerked awake in my bed, gasping for air, sweat beaded on my forehead, my dream utterly forgotten. My alarm clock blared in the background, rapidly beeping, urging me awake.

"Ugh," I groaned, slamming the off button and rubbing my eyes with my hands. "Why the hell do I subject myself to this?"

_This _happened to be my daily 6 a.m. wake-up that I despised. My shift at the office on-campus started at 7:30. I had applied for the job at the beginning of my senior year, proud of myself for taking the iniative. Now, I wondered why in the world I had thought working at college would be such a wonderful thing. However, as much as I disliked my early mornings, I had to admit that my job as a student-secretary had brought in at least a steady flow of cash; well, more like a steady trickle of cash. Still, it was something. Most of my day consisted of filing and sorting paperwork, setting up appointments for various staff members, and going on frequent coffee runs for said staff members. Not exactly the kind of thing I enjoyed, but, then, who really enjoys their first real job? Besides, I only had a week until graduation. After that, I would be looking for something more permanent, mostly because my mother didn't let her kids freeload off of her. Just ask Steven, my brother.

I hopped in the shower, the feeling of the steaming hot water against my frigid skin causing goosebumps to rise all over me. I had my morning routine down to an exact science. I always did the same thing with my hair and what little make-up I wore, and I usually picked out what I was going to wear the night before, making my mornings so much more efficient. Well, as efficient as anything in my life could be, anyway. I usually watched some TV while I ate a meager breakfast and sucked down a cup of hot tea. I detested coffee, but I didn't mind having something hot to drink in the morning. It's funny. I used to make fun of my mom for drinking all her "gross" organic teas, and now here I sat, desperately trying to make the ascent into consciousness by drinking the self-same tea. It was at times like these that I begrudgingly realized just how much like my mother I was starting to act as I got older.

My drive to work and school took less than fifteen minutes, especially since I rarely ran into any heavy traffic on the highway. I pulled into the college parking lot, displaying my parking pass in the windshield and stepping out of my car. As I trudged toward the main office, I looked around the campus that I had become so familiar with after all these years. The little picnic tables that were nestled under groves of spruce, the fountain in the courtyard with its statue of some historic figure standing proud in the center of the sprays of water, the library where I had spent many a long night cramming with Taylor and Anika, my closest friends. I found it hard to believe that I would be leaving this place for good in a week. So much of my life had happened here. I had really grown up, really matured, become a young lady. I sometimes wondered if Susannah would be proud of the woman I was becoming. I liked to think so. I mean, I wasn't just little Belly anymore. I wasn't that little girl who desperately needed to be included, who sought after attention every chance she got. No, I had, I don't know, found myself, or something; I had become Isabel Conklin. My life had been kind of redefined, for lack of a better word, by college and the experiences it had to offer. I learned how to survive without those I loved being close to me, even though learning that survival had been a long, hard road. Especially after what had happened between me and Jeremiah. That incident had caused me to really take a long look at my life. And it made me realize that for the first time, I needed to become someone other than my summer self. Oh, that girl would always be there on some level. I would never give her up completely. But now, I also had another life. A life that I had created all by myself.

After work, I had a couple of final exams to take. They were nothing serious, so I got them over with quickly. My work load senior year had been blessedly light which gave me plenty of time for other, more important things. Like my social life.

Unlike Taylor, I didn't spend copious amounts of time at parties, flirting and dancing and drinking. I did, however, sometimes enjoy going out with Taylor and Anika; that is, if Anika was in the mood. We'd hit up some club where Taylor would usually find a guy to take home and where Anika and I danced ourselves silly. As a rule, though, I kept these outings to a minimum. It wasn't really even my scene. I mean, sure, I didn't mind having some carefree fun, but I also didn't enjoy having random, drunk guys try to find an excuse to feel me up out on the dance floor, either. So, we typically just met up for dinner at some restaurant, or had a movie night at one of our apartments where we'd binge on rom coms and junk food. I thought my life was pretty great.

This particular night, though, I was alone. Taylor had some sorority gathering, and Anika was on her period, and she preferred to be miserable all by herself. I didn't mind. I needed to get some laundry done anyway. Which I didn't do; I never did. I absolutely hated doing laundry, and I put off doing it for as long as I could possibly scrounge up some sort of outfit to wear.

Instead, I stretched out on my couch, flipping through the channels on TV before finally settling on _To Kill A Mockingbird. _You know, the movie with Gregory Peck. I had always loved old movies. They seemed to have so much more meaning and depth to them than movies nowadays. It was like, at the end you always felt that deep sense of satisfaction, like you had just solved a really hard riddle that your teacher had given you. Of course, another one of the reasons that I was fond of old movies had to do with the fact that they reminded me of Susannah. She'd had a glorious collection of movies that had been filmed in the 30's, 40's, and 50's. At the summer house, we'd sometimes spend whole days watching movies out of her collection. The boys always hated it when we did that, but it had been one of my favorite things ever. It was Susannah's and my special shared love.

I sighed. Of course, thinking of Susannah led my mind straight to the summer house. And, from there, my mind would wander closer and closer to _that _place. That area in my mind that I hated and yet sometimes yearned to remember. I could hear his voice so clearly, see that smirky smile that I wanted so badly to kiss away so perfectly. I hadn't heard from Conrad since I'd come home from Spain, since I'd sent my one and only letter to him, actually. A part of me had desired, more than anything, to keep some sort of correspondence going, to keep communication flowing freely between us. Yet, I also knew that I couldn't do that yet. I still needed some time to breathe, to grow, to figure things out. I missed him like crazy, though. Despite the fact that all he'd really done was hurt me and humiliate me, somehow I knew he was, once again, that boy I had fallen in love with once upon a time. Oh, of course he'd changed. We all had changed. But he wasn't shut off from his feelings anymore. He knew what it meant to love, and he knew how to cherish love in a deeper way since his mom's death. His letters to me told me that.

As I changed into my most comfortable pajamas, and brushed my teeth in my tiny bathroom that night, these thoughts whirled around inside my head. I buried myself under a heap of covers, trying to force my mind to stop working. But I couldn't get away from them. The memories, I mean. All I knew was that I didn't know. I didn't know when or even if Conrad and I would ever be together again. I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted to give him my heart again. It was all the not knowing that killed me. But with Conrad, the not knowing was just a risk that had to be taken.

Please just take a few minutes to review! I would love to know what you think of my story so far! Thank you!


	2. Summer Girl Again

**Thank you so much for your reviews! They really help me to stay motivated in my writing. Well, here's chapter two… Enjoy!**

**Summer Girl Again**

The last week of school passed surprisingly quickly. I finished up the last of my exams without a problem, and before long I was walking out of my last day of work. It was a bittersweet emotion that filled my heart as I drove out of the parking lot for the last time. On the one hand, I had never particularly enjoyed my job, but it had been my first one. There was something so comfortable about it. I had gotten used to all the endless filing and paperwork that was required of me. It would be weird not waking up at an ungodly hour every morning and trudging half-asleep into a stuffy office that smelled of copy paper and white-out.

Even so, I didn't grieve over my last day too much as I sped out of the parking lot and onto the main highway. Graduation was on Saturday, only two days away, and my whole family would be coming down tomorrow night. My mom, dad, Steven, even Jeremiah and Mr. Fisher, of all people, would be at my graduation. My mother, though, would be staying in my apartment while the boys would be grabbing a hotel room. I had mixed feelings about my mother coming to stay.

I mean, I had missed my mother, of course. I hadn't even seen her since Christmas break. For spring break, Anika and I had went on this bus trip to D.C. We took part in all the tourist-y things like the Smithsonian, a tour of the White House and Capitol Building, and a visit to all the monuments. Sure, it was a bit nerdy (which Taylor, who had went to Cabo, was sure to point out every chance she got) but Anika and I had both had a blast doing it together. My mother had pushed me to go on this trip. She was all about the college experience; still, though, I felt a bit guilty about never getting home to see her or my dad.

Then again, I did feel sort of, well, weird about my mother coming to stay in my apartment. I just felt like I would be giving up some of my hard-earned independence. Like, if my mother was there, I would suddenly become little Belly again. The summer girl.

Either way, I had to get home and make reservations for my mom's favorite restaurant that happened to be close by. I had made plans with Taylor, whose mom was also coming down, to take our parents out on Friday night. She had reluctantly agreed, with an eye-roll and groan, as long as we got back in enough time for her to attend all of her "social gatherings". Which basically meant that her brother fraternity was throwing a kegger that she didn't want to miss. I heaved a sigh as I pulled into the apartment complex, thinking about all the crap I had to get done between now and tomorrow night. I hopped out of my car and stepped heavy-footed up three flights of stairs. I reached my apartment and opened up the door up, tossing my keys on the counter that stood just inside the doorway.

"Hello, Belly," said a voice. I screamed, jumping back and bumping my back painfully against the doorjamb. There, on my couch, sat my mother in her unnervingly calm way.

"Hey _mom_," I snapped, moving away from the door. "You think it would kill you to, you know, maybe warn me next time you decide to sneak up on me in my own apartment?"

"Sorry, hon," she said, sounding not the least bit sorry. "I was planning to call you, but then I remembered you worked until two. I decided to just show up and surprise you." At this, mom arose from the couch and came over and enfolded me in her arms. I must admit that being held by my mother, with the familiar smell of her perfume wafting over me and her strong arms close around me, felt nice.

"Well, you should be thankful you didn't give me a heart attack." I stepped back and took a look at my mom. It really seemed as if she hadn't aged. Mothers had that way about them, though; that timeless quality. But there were those tell-tale signs of encroaching age, such as the lines that crisscrossed around her face and mouth. Subtle signs, but they were there nonetheless. "And not that I don't want you here or anything, but what exactly made you come a day earlier?"

"Well, Celeste and I thought we would surprise our daughters with a night out. Just the girls." So Taylor's mom was here too, then? I wondered how Taylor felt about that.

"Sounds like fun…" I said, although I actually thought it would be a bit awkward with both the mothers and daughters there. But I didn't say that, of course.

At any rate, it was surprisingly nice to finally see my mother. She could infuriate me so much sometimes, but then at other times I thought that there was no one else in the world I would rather be with. Except maybe Susannah. But I tried not to think about her too much anymore.

We met Taylor and her mom at a well-known little pub that was about thirty minutes from my apartment. They had the best food in the world and the best beer, at least according to Taylor. I had been there with Taylor and Anika a couple of times, mostly to appease Taylor. I remember this one time we went there, this guy started flirting with me. He seemed nice at first, and he was pretty hot, but then he kept going on and on about how smart he was and how he was going to take over the family business and blah, blah, blah. I finally pretended like I had to go to bathroom, and Anika and I had booked it out of there. Taylor had been too busy chatting up a guy to notice us leave anyway.

When we walked in the pub, Taylor and her mom were already sitting in a cozy little corner booth that was situated by a window overlooking a pond. Celeste stood up as my mom and I approached.

"Belly," crooned Celeste. "Look at you. You're so grown up, it makes me want to cry." Celeste cloaked me in her arms, nearly suffocating me with the smell of her Chanel No. 5 perfume. I fought back a sigh. There was nothing that made you feel younger and smaller than to hear someone tell you how grown up you look. It's like you're ten again and adults are fussing over how tall you're getting.

"Mom," said Taylor, rolling her eyes. "Enough with the waterworks. You're only sad because the older we get, the older you get."

Celeste glared at her daughter. "You won't understand until you've had kids how hard it is to see them grow up." Still, she placed her hand self-consciously on her coiffed hair.

"Oh, Celeste, we have to accept the fact that our little girls are turning into strong young women now," my mom said, smiling fondly at the two of us. She hardly ever got emotional.

"I remember when they were so excited about starting high school, and now here they are graduating college!" Celeste brushed away a few tears. Taylor and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes, yet I sort of understood the way she felt. It seemed like yesterday that we were longing to be high school girls, and look at us now.

By the time our drinks had arrived and we ordered our food, we were all sharing memories and laughing. We couldn't help it. I have to admit, looking back at all our little mishaps through the years created plenty of amusement.

"Well," I said, still recovering from our last bout of laughter. "I, for one, will never forget your eleventh birthday party." I looked at Taylor.

"Oh my god, I don't even want to think about it. I knew we shouldn't have rented that stupid Shetland pony. My first pair of high heels, and I step in horse crap." I burst out in laughter once more. I don't remember the last time I had laughed so hard. It seemed like it had been ages.

A few hours later, after I'd hugged Taylor and Celeste, and after Celeste had shed a few more tears, my mom and I headed back to my apartment. We sat on my couch for a long time, having a glass of wine and just talking. I told her all about college and my classes, and she told me about stuff at home. It was actually nice, just being mother and daughter without all the extra stuff between us. My leaving home and making a life for myself here had made our relationship stronger rather than weaker.

The whole time we were talking, though, I had this urge within me. I wanted, so badly, to ask about him. Conrad. I knew he and my mom still talked. They had a special sort of relationship, always had. I just couldn't bring myself to say the words; I was scared to find out what his life was like now because it didn't include me. What if he had a girlfriend? I hated to admit it, but it would absolutely kill me if he did have one. I knew I had no right, no right at all, to feel that way. After all, I was the one who had insisted that we keep our distance, that we wait and see what the future held for both of us. Yet, I also knew that I still loved him. When I thought about him I stopped being Isabel- mature, level-headed Isabel- and I became Belly again. I became that little girl with the freckles and glasses. The little girl who always felt inferior, felt left out. The little girl who pined after Conrad Fisher. I hated the fact that that girl was still a part of me, but I couldn't exist without her. She'd always be there.

That night as my mom was getting the couch pulled out and making her bed, I leaned against the doorframe, just watching.

"Belly," said my mom without even looking at me. "I know when there's something you want to tell me. Why don't you just spit it out?" She shot me a look then. You know, the _mom_ look.

I sighed, and all of the sudden the desire to ask was unbearable. It felt like a weight was pressing down on my chest, hard. I opened my mouth to speak. I was going to ask. I _had _to ask. I couldn't go another day without knowing. I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak. At that moment though, it was like my mind snatched the words away and replaced them with something else, something noncommittal.

"I just… wanted to tell you that I have my first job interview next week. I'm just sort of nervous about it." I felt like a total coward.

My mother, however, looked pleasantly surprised at my statement. She came over and quickly kissed the top of my head, her trademark symbol of affection.

"That's nice, Bean," she said, using my old, old nickname. "I'm sure you'll be just fine."

That night, after I had slipped on my PJ's and prepared for bed, I dug through my closet and grabbed a cardboard box. I took his letters out and laid them before me. I read each and every one of them, savoring them. His words, penned in his perfect handwriting, tugged at my heart and caused tears to drip slowly down my cheeks. In this moment, I was completely and totally his once more.

In this moment, I was that summer girl again.

**Well, what did you think? This was more of a filler chapter, but next chapter will have a lot more happening. We might even catch a glimpse of Conrad… who knows? Anyway, please review! I love to hear your thoughts, good or bad. Whatever they are, they help me to become a better writer! **


	3. Shocked

**Well… I'm back. Sorry for the super long wait, but I had to put this story on hold until school let out. It was my senior year, so I kind of had a lot to do. Enough of that, though. Read on!**

By the time I woke up on Friday morning, I had put all my memories of Conrad right back where they belonged. In that old cardboard box in the back of my tiny closet. I refused to let my memories of him control me. I ignored that miniscule part of me that absolutely ached to know where he was, what he was doing. I firmly threw myself into the life of Isabel. There was no room for Conrad in this life. None at all.

I spent Friday morning with Taylor and Anika getting our nails done for graduation. I had never been able to wear nail polish for more than a few days at a time. It felt funny on my nails, kind of stiff. And besides, I had never been able to kick my nail-biting habit. But it was nice to just have fun and goof off with my two best friends.

After we had finished at the nail salon, Anika and I dragged Taylor into _Muffins and More, _which is this really yummy shop ran by two old ladies who made the best muffins ever.

"Oh my God, you guys, those things are like 1,000 calories apiece. You know that, right?" Taylor was obsessed with calorie counting these days. She was always trying some new diet, like fish and rice or something gross like that. Anika and I thought it was stupid since Taylor never weighed more than 110 pounds no matter what she ate. It was absolutely infuriating actually.

"Really, Taylor," I said, yanking her roughly towards the door. "It's not gonna kill you to eat one freaking muffin." The rusty old bell that was tied around the handle made a dry clanking sound as I opened the door. As soon as I walked into the place, my mouth immediately began to water. The smell of freshly baked muffins wafted over us. It always made me think of the summer house when Susannah would go on a baking spree. Sometimes she would make dozens of muffins in a single day. I always, always begged her to make snickerdoodle muffins. They were the best things ever, just like snickerdoodle cookies but better because they were in muffin form.

I quickly pushed all thoughts of the summer house out of my mind, though, and soon Taylor, Anika, and I were all settled on a super comfy sectional digging into our moist, warm muffins.

"I cannot believe we are graduating college tomorrow, you guys!" Taylor did her little squeal thing that annoyed Anika so much and she said roughly,

"Really? Because it felt like it would never end." I rolled my eyes at this. Anika pretended not to be sentimental and mushy about things like this, but I knew better. Whenever I went to help her pack up her dorm room earlier this week, I had seen her eyes get a bit watery. I mean, we had spent four years of our life at that place. It deserved at least a few shed tears.

"Well, today really might be it for us. I mean, you're flying out to New York tomorrow night for your summer internship, right Anika?" I asked, even though I didn't need to. Anika hadn't stopped talking about her internship at the _New York Times _since she had found out she had been accepted back in early January.

"Yes! And I am so excited. Girls, you might be looking at the next big thing in journalism."

Taylor scoffed, "You don't have what it takes to be in journalism. To be in journalism you have to be at least a little interesting. You have to be able to report even boring crap and make it sound like juicy gossip. You do not have that talent." I laughed as Anika's eyes bugged out of her head a little. That was her standard reaction to Taylor's constant criticism.

"Oh come on, Tay." I said, trying to lighten the tension a bit. "Even you have to admit that Anika wrote the best articles for the _Finch Watch._"

The _Finch Watch _was our college's newspaper of sorts. It included short stories, articles, photographs, that kind of thing. Anika had gotten several of her articles published in the paper. This past year, Taylor had attempted to take over the "gossip" column which was always run by a senior girl at the school. Needless to say, her attempt ended in failure and resulted in more than a few sour grapes when Anika became a regular writer for the paper.

"Whatever," Taylor growled. "Anyway, what time are our reservations for the restaurant tonight, anyway?" She asked me quickly, trying to change the subject. " I need plenty of time to get ready."

"Seven," I said

"Oh, that's right!" Anika said perkily, "I forgot about that. So Belly, how do you think it will go with Jeremiah tonight?"

I had to suppress a groan at this question. Don't get me wrong. Jeremiah and I had long since reconciled after our little wedding mishap. We had decided that we would move past that in an attempt to reestablish a friendship like the one that had existed in our childhood. But, of course, that wasn't entirely possible. We still emailed and had even hung out this past Christmas when he had come to visit me and my mom. Things felt pretty fragile between us though. It's just like when I was ten and I had eaten a big bowl mac and cheese, and then I came down with the stomach bug and threw up all night. Ever since then, whenever I tried to eat mac and cheese, my stomach would twist painfully and I couldn't quite take a bite. It was the same way with us. We could never be just Belly and Jeremiah ever again, just a girl and a boy who were bound to be best friends for life, who said things like "no secrets" to each other. There would forever be that one blip on the radar that would come between us. That one tainted memory that neither of us could forget, no matter how hard we tried.

I forced a cheery laugh and shrugged the question off. "It'll be perfectly fine. It's like nothing even happened at all." I wondered if the lie was as obvious to their ears as it was my own. I was saved from further awkwardness by Taylor's own problems, though.

"Ugh, I cannot believe daddy is coming tonight. I haven't seen him in almost two years. What makes him think I want him at my graduation?"

I pretended to listen as Taylor poured out her frustrations and as Anika talked about her own plans for tonight. In all actuality my mind was wandering to that place. The forbidden place that I hated yet loved so much. I remembered so clearly when Jeremiah and I were so close, probably closer than I was to anyone back then, even Taylor. Especially Taylor. And then I remember Susannah and how she embodied everything that I ever wanted to be when I grew up. An amazing mom, wife, person, everything. I could almost feel my head in her lap as she stroked my hair and talked with me about boys and growing up and all the things I could never really talk about with my mother.

But then, like a pot of water that oh-so-slowly begins to heat up until it's boiling, my mind wandered further back to the place that I kept bottled up, preserved like a really old, really precious artifact at a museum. The way his eyes looked when he laughed. The way the nape of his neck turned pink like baby skin whenever he got his hair cut. The way I felt when he looked at me, talked to me, touched me. It was all so overwhelming. Remembering these things about him- it was like wading in the ocean. The farther out I go, the harder it is to resist the power of the waves. If I'm not careful, I get in over my head, and I can't fight my way back out.

At about one o'clock that afternoon I'm headed to the airport with my mom to pick up my dad and Steven, who were due to land any minute. I was actually really excited to see my dad, and, even though I'd never admit it, I was looking forward to seeing my brother too. As soon as my mom and I stepped into terminal where we were planning to wait, we heard a deep voice shout out, "Yo, Belly Button!"

"Oh, God," I sighed as I put my hands over my face, but I couldn't keep the huge smile from spreading across my face when I saw the two people standing at the opposite end of the terminal.

I rushed forward, dodging all the people and stacks of luggage that blocked my path and threw my arms around my dad. I could tell he was a bit taken aback at my enthusiasm, but he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me fiercely, just like when I was a little girl right before bedtime. The familiar smell of Old Spice and books assured me that he was still the same dad I had always had, and, despite a few more gray patches in his beard and hair, he looked the same as well.

"It's good to see you Belly. You look wonderful, honey. I'm so proud of you!" And he looked it too. It made me glow inside a little to think about how I could still make my dad proud of me.

All of the sudden I was engulfed by Steven's arms from behind. He squeezed me so hard that I could barely breathe.

"Geez, Steven," I wheezed, wrestling my way out of his hold, "Have you ever heard of deodorant?" I gave him a playful punch on the arm.

He gave me a devious grin. "Yes, but apparently you haven't!" He laughed, ruffling the hair on my head.

I watched him reach over and give my mom a hug, even though he got to see her practically every day of his life. He looked so much older, so much more mature. His chin was covered in light stubble that actually suited him. In his blue polo and plaid shorts he could almost pass for a young businessman about to go yachting in a fancy boat. Almost.

We loaded the guys' luggage into the trunk of my mom's rental car. They had brought only one suitcase each since they were only staying two nights, so it didn't take up much room. I hopped in the back with Steven to deliver him and my dad to their hotel room. My mom and dad were chatting about stuff in the front, but I didn't mind because it gave me a chance to tease Steven a bit. I had missed that.

"So why didn't your 'girlfriend' come?" I asked playfully, putting air quotes around "girlfriend." Steven had started dating a girl back in February, and it was apparently getting quite serious. I hadn't yet met her, though, and I loved to tease him by claiming he was making her up.

"She has better things to do than sit for four hours just watch my stupid little sister walk across the stage and get a piece of paper," He said grouchily, already annoyed at my joke.

"Pretty convenient excuse if you ask me," I said loftily. Steven narrowed his eyes and looked at me.

"Why don't you grow up already, Belly?" He asked grumpily, but I could see that amused glint in his eye, and I knew that he had missed this just as much as I did.

"Never," I giggled, smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. I had never before in my life been so happy to be talking and teasing with my brother.

Throughout the rest of the ride, we mostly just chatted about life. Steven told me about his job as a computer tech at a bank and about Aria, his girlfriend. I told him all about college life and my boring job as a student secretary. He asked when Mr. Fisher and Jeremiah would be getting here, but I didn't really know. Since they only lived a few hours away, they were planning to drive down, and I didn't know exactly when they were leaving.

Just as we were pulling into the apartment complex, Steven gave me one of his "serious brother" looks. I hated it when he did that because it usually meant he was going to ask a question that I didn't want to answer.

"So have you heard from Conrad lately?" There it was. The one question that had the power to ruin my ecstatic mood in one second. All of the sudden I had the urge to throw my hands over my ears and start humming loudly. I could tell by his tone that he was about to say something, give me some news that I told myself I didn't want to hear but really did.

"No," I said breathlessly, and, powerless to stop myself I said, "Why?"

Steven smiled and said, "He got a job in a lab at that medical center. You know, the one he was hoping to get in to?"

I nodded mechanically, as if I knew exactly what Conrad's hopes and dreams were. I tried to act as if this news only mildly interested me, but I knew I failed miserably.

"That's nice," I croaked out, trying to relax and breathe. Why did Steven have to bring up Conrad?

Thankfully, my mom pulled the car to a stop at that moment. The luggage was quickly unloaded and soon we were back in the car, getting ready to head back to the apartment.

"Be ready to go at six-thirty sharp," Mom reminded them pointedly before driving off.

The whole drive back to my apartment was spent in silence. When my mom pulled up in front of my building, though, she put the car into park without turning it off. I sighed and braced myself for the conversation that I knew was about to come. I absolutely hated when my mom had these motherly "talks" with me. They always ended up in an argument.

"Belly," my mother sighed, putting her hand on mine, "why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

I rolled my eyes, "Oh my God, seriously?"

"Belly, I know when something is bothering you and I would like to know what it is. I'm your mother. I worry about you."

She sounded so genuine when she said that. I felt a little bad about keeping this from her, but there was nothing to be done. I didn't even want to talk about him. I couldn't.

"Mom, I swear nothing is wrong. I'm just nervous about tomorrow, about the rest of my life. I pinky promise." At that I held out my pinky finger and waited. Sure enough, my mom rolled her eyes and smiled hooking her own pinky with mine, just like when I was nine and I treated pinky promises like a binding contract.

"Oh Bean, there's nothing to be worried about," Mom said, placing her hand on my head fondly. "I love you."

I smiled, weak with relief that she believed me. "Love you too, Mom."

At about six o'clock my mother yelled at me from the living room, "I'm going to pick up your father and brother and drive them to the restaurant!"

I looked at the clock and freaked out a little. It was already six and I literally had just gotten out of the shower. "Okay! I'll meet you guys there!" I yell, frantically plugging in my blowdryer.

I hear my mom close the door behind her and I go into overdrive doing my hair, putting on makeup, scrambling into my clothes. It was weird because, even though I wasn't really trying to impress anyone tonight, I took extra special care getting ready. Spraying on a bit of perfume, putting on eyeshadow which I hardly ever used, and even putting on panty hose. I had only ever worn panty hose like twice in my whole entire life. I wasn't sure why I did these things exactly. Maybe I wanted to show everyone how grown up I was, that I was Isabel now and not little Belly in her cut-off shorts and tank tops, or maybe I just wanted to feel pretty. Whatever the reason, when I looked in the mirror right before leaving, I felt as if I had accomplished some purpose.

My hair was perfectly straight and shiny like in those shampoo commercials with just a few curls bouncing at the ends. I had on some shiny lip gloss, a touch of blush, and a bit of mascara and dark eye shadow that defined my gray eyes. My outfit consisted of my brand new gray pencil skirt and a cream-colored silky blouse that tucked in. To top it all off, I was actually wearing a pair of three-inch, salmon-pink heeled shoes which actually had me fearing for my life a bit, as I was not a typical heel-wearer. I had no idea how Taylor traipsed around in her six-inch pumps everyday of her life.

I breathed out a long, slow breath. I was ready to face all these people who had defined my past. I was ready to show them that I was Isabel Conklin, a mature young woman with a bright future ahead. Grabbing my clutch, I stepped out the door, making sure to lock up before I walked away. Just as I was getting into my car, my phone rang. I looked at the unfamiliar number, wondering if Jeremiah had gotten a new phone or something and was calling me.

"Hello," I said uncertainly into the phone.

"Hi, Belly."

My heart stuttered painfully in my chest and I nearly dropped my phone in pure shock. For a moment, I could say nothing at all. I could only wonder if this was a dream. Finally, and without really knowing it, I whispered into the phone,

"Conrad."

**I hoped you enjoyed that! As always, a review would be amazing. Criticism is always welcome! **


	4. You Never Know

I walked into the restaurant trying to compose myself. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other and breathe steadily. My heart still hammered out a staccato beat in my chest, and my whole body felt like it was made of jelly.

I checked my phone as I walked through the door. After I'd received that very unexpected call, I hadn't known what to do. So I'd hung up. I'd heard his voice, that voice that had been in so many of my dreams for so many nights; I'd heard him audibly speaking to me after all this time, and I just couldn't do it. I'd freaked and pressed that stupid red off button without it even sinking in. And he hasn't called me back. Not that I expected him too. I mean, when someone hangs up on you after two seconds, you generally think that it's a problem with the phone. But Conrad knew me better than that. I'm sure he'd heard the shock, the alarm, in my voice. Besides, if I wanted to, I could call him back. I had his number now, stored away in my phone. I absolutely hated that. Because it gave me power. Whereas before I'd had no way to contact him, not even an email address, now I had every means to not only contact him personally but also to hear his voice. This was one kind of power I didn't care to have.

Trying in vain to clear my mind of this recent situation, I followed the hostess, a petite girl with multicolored hair, to the huge table that I'd reserved for everybody. As we came closer to the large gathering of my family and friends, I sucked in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. I just had to act normally. Pretend like I hadn't just gotten a call from the one person that I couldn't possibly talk to yet wanted so badly to hear from.

"Here we are," the girl said, sweeping her arm quite unnecessarily over the crowd at the table.

"Thanks," I mumbled. I walked the last few steps over to the table, taking those few moments to observe the people that were crowded around the enormous black granite and cherry oak table.

Of course, Taylor had her family there. Her mom and dad, seated as far as possible from one another, were both determined to hold their daughter's attention. Then there were a few of Taylor's aunts and uncles, along with some of her cousins, that I remembered meeting once, but not enough to know their names. My eyes then skimmed over my own group, which included my mom, dad, and Steven, of course; I saw Mr. Fisher looking intently at his menu while also chattering away to my dad, who, as always when listening to Mr. Fisher, looked bored. That's when I looked over at Jeremiah and saw him looking at me sort of uncertainly. All of the sudden, I wondered if he had any idea about Conrad's out-of-the-blue call. But how could he? It had only been about twenty minutes ago.

At that moment, though, Taylor caught sight of me.

"Belly!" she exclaimed. She hopped up from her chair and came running over, throwing her arms around me. She whispered vehemently into my ear,

"Thank God you're here. Please just kill me now. I can't do this." The way she was talking reminded me of when we'd had gym together in high school freshman year. She'd hated it so much and many times threw out those dramatic pleas for me to end her life. Now, though, I just heaved a sigh, relieved at having a distraction.

"Come on, Taylor. Just an hour, that's all you have to do," I breathed into her ear as we took our seats in the middle of everyone. "Play nice."

She huffed a bit but plastered a big, cheesy grin on her face as one of her aunts- the one with the insanely frizzy hair and so much perfume she could choke a horse- told her for the umpteenth time that she should become a model. I smiled a bit at this and began to relax. I could do this.

"Well, if it isn't Belly Button, the great big college graduate." I looked across the table, surprised that I hadn't noticed that I'd sat right across from Jeremiah. Gone was his strange look from earlier. In its place was a big grin that reminded me of when he was twelve and had pulled some "ingenious" prank of one of the guys. "How've you been?"

"Well, I'd be doing a whole lot better if you guys would just drop that old nickname. It's embarrassing." I pretended to be upset when I said this but I just couldn't keep a smile off my face. Right now, in this moment, I was able to push all thoughts of the phone call out of my mind. It was easy with Jeremiah, even after all we'd been through, to lose sight of every problem and just laugh. That's why I had loved him, why I still loved him, and why we'd been best friends.

"I'm just trying to keep you grounded in reality," he said, poking me with his foot under the table.

"Yeah, well, my feet are firmly on the ground so I'm good," I teased back.

As we began to order our drinks and appetizers, I was grateful that so many people kept me busy in conversation. It was easier to keep my mind from wandering this way. I felt a little awkward, however, when Taylor's dad started asking me all these questions about what I had planned for my future. I'd never really talked to him that much before; whenever I'd go over to Taylor's house when we were kids, he'd always ignored me. And then Taylor's cousin, a sophomore in high school, asked me about all the hot guys I'd met in college, but thankfully her dad scolded her about her poor manners, saving me from having to answer. All night it was this way. Jeremiah and Steven teased me some more and asked me about the fun stuff I'd done this past year at college, Mr. Fisher probed me about my upcoming job interview, and Dad questioned me about the caliber of Finch's library (what does that even mean?).

Despite the numerous conversations I was involved in, though, I found my mind gradually drifting back to that phone call. Conrad's voice had sounded just like I'd remembered, smooth and perfect. Like a bucket of icy water, it had drenched me in a thousand memories. Memories that I had tried my best to lock away tightly these past few years. I knew as I answered all the questions being thrown at me by different people that I wasn't quite there, in the present. A part of me was reaching across a thousand miles, wishing that I could see his face.

After dinner had been served and when everyone had eaten their fill and were chatting pleasantly, Taylor suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Come to the restroom with me Belly." She hauled me up from my seat and smiled apologetically back at our table. "Excuse us," she said primly.

I had to speed walk to keep up with her pace as we headed to the bathroom across the restaurant. Taylor's behavior didn't surprise me. Taylor was one of those girls, the kind that had to have a "bathroom buddy." It's some kind of animal instinct that all pretty girls possess, I think.

However, once we reached the bathroom instead of fluffing her hair or checking her makeup like I had been expecting, she turned roughly on her heel and glared at me. I stumbled back a bit at the force of her look, as if it actually had some sort of physical power over me.

"What?" I asked sharply. "Why are you giving me that look?"

"Why do you think," Taylor retorted, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip, "Don't play dumb, I know that face."

"What face! God Taylor, just tell me why you dragged me in here." I was getting pretty impatient now.

"You've been acting weird all evening. Like, spaced out or something." She leveled another look at me, and I felt a sense of dread well up within me. "It has something to do with Conrad, I know it."

I felt the blood drain from my face then. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes a few seconds before responding.

"That's crazy, Taylor. I haven't talked to Conrad in two years." I realized just then that I hadn't spoken his name out loud in a long, long time. It felt nice. Natural. Easy.

"Oh please," Taylor chirped, "Belly, I've known you for a loooong time. I know all of your faces, and this one I know especially well. Just tell me what happened!" By the end of her little rant, she was practically screaming.

"Taylor, please lower your voice," I began, but she cut in sharply,

"Then just tell me the truth. Please."

I sighed in defeat, my whole body slumping against the sink. The color suddenly rushed back into my face as I thought about how I was going to tell Taylor about the call. I looked into the mirror at my reflection. Even to my own eyes I looked flustered.

"Alright, fine," I said quietly. "You're right. Something happened with Conrad."

At this, Taylor gasped and tugged me toward a little seating area that was placed off to the side of the restroom, and we plopped onto the leather loveseat. "Tell me everything," she demanded. "What happened?"

Her eyes looked hungry for this particular piece of news. She looked at me like she was starving and I was holding a big bag of Doritos in front of her face.

"Alright, alright. I will." I heaved a huge sigh and began.

I recounted the short but extremely momentous phone call. I told her about how his voice absolutely stunned me and about how I'd hung up on him so abruptly. And then I recounted all the emotions that had been running through me since then.

"It's like- I don't know- like I'm just at a loss now. I don't know what I want anymore."

"I can't believe this!" Taylor exclaimed. "Oh my God, why did you have to hang up? You should've talked to him, yelled at him, something!"

I covered my hands with my face. "Ugh, Taylor. I just… I just couldn't." I looked up at her then. She was giving me that _Taylor_ look. The one where she looks sympathetic but exasperated at the same time.

"Well," Taylor began excitedly, "you have his number now. You can call him back. You need to talk to him Belly." Her voice was adamant now, and I knew she was right.

"I know I do, but… I'm scared. Terrified, actually. I can't do it, Taylor. Some things are just better left alone."

"Maybe," Taylor said, "but not this."

Deep down inside, I knew she was right. I knew that I couldn't keep hiding forever. At some point, I'd have to talk to him, maybe even see him. I knew it, but I still fought against it.

"One day," I murmured softly, "One day I will talk to him again, I'll have to. But for now I'm just so confused. I don't know what to think or even feel anymore."

At that Taylor grabbed me up in one of her fierce hugs. "You'll get there, Belly. You two have a lot of history between you. But you'll get there." She said it with such assertiveness, such assurance, that I could do nothing else but believe her. It was actually such a relief to tell Taylor all about this. Even if she didn't fully understand what I was feeling, she did know all of my history with Conrad. She knew that, when it comes to him, I'm powerless.

"Thanks, Tay," I said, feeling a bit drained from the emotion and tension that had been straining me all evening. "I have no clue what I'd do without you."

"You'd waste away, obviously," she scoffed. We both laughed at that.

After a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn't look too frazzled, we headed back out into the dining area and towards our families and friends. I felt stronger since that conversation, but I also felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

As everybody headed to the parking lot to find their cars, I doled out hugs and thank-you-for-coming's. I double-checked to make sure that everyone knew the ceremony started at eleven tomorrow morning. Just as I had finished saying goodbye to my dad, I went over to Jeremiah and threw my arms around his neck.

"Bye, Jere," I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. I'll always be here, you know that." Those words and his smile made me feel good inside. At least I had partly savaged things with one of the Fisher brothers.

Jeremiah turned to leave, but I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to ask him. About Conrad. About the phone call. That look he had given me when I first walked in the restaurant, it made me feel sure he knew something. I grabbed his arm.

"Jere, I need to ask you something…" my voice trailed off as his guard seemed to shoot up out of nowhere. I studied him carefully as he backed away, toward his car.

"Just don't, Belly, ok?" I was taken aback at his words. He didn't sound rude, more like he was trying to warn me about something. In fact, he sounded almost desperate, like I was about to step off the edge of a cliff.

I watched as he slid into his car. My mind was racing with a thousand questions that had no answers. At least not yet.

**Conrad POV**

I had just sent Laurel a text letting her know that I had arrived safely when I saw the headlights swerve toward the curb. I had been waiting for almost an hour, sitting outside the airport on a curb. Jeremiah got out of his car and came around to help me with my bags.

"Hey, man," I said, patting him on the back, "Thanks for doing this."

"Yeah, sure." Jeremiah's eyes looked a bit tense. Things between us still weren't the best, especially now that I was here. With him. And Belly. Hopefully that would change, though, once he had the chance to see that I wasn't here to hurt her. Not again.

We both got into the car where the silence was pretty much deafening. When Jere pulled out of the parking, I had to ask.

"How is she," I asked, looking at his profile in the shadows of the dark car.

He just shrugged. "How do you think? She's confused. She… she acted real weird at dinner tonight. What happened when you called her?"

I stared out at the darkness. I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought about the phone call from earlier. It made me sad, even though she had every right to do what she did. Still, it hurt a little. A lot.

"Not well," I mumbled.

Jeremiah looked at me for a second before fixing his eyes back on the road.

"Just be careful. For her sake. Please." My heart twisted painfully in my chest. I hated that he had to tell me that. That he felt like he had to tell me that.

I nodded. "Will do."

I watched the streetlights fly past as we got closer to town. I couldn't believe that I was really here. I couldn't believe that I might get to see her tomorrow. The girl I loved, the girl I would always love was out there. I was determined that this time, I wouldn't hurt her. I would show her that we belonged together.


End file.
